


sweet like ice cream and tough like the terminator

by florelflowers



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, And Stucky, Fluff, Lots of it, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, abuse of commas, i was craving ice cream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 21:51:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7950478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/florelflowers/pseuds/florelflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Because you’re a literal pint size human.” Immediately, his awe for the dude fades and Steve lets the freezer door slam shut, putting a hand on his hip and scowls. </p><p>“Fuck you. I’ll have you know I got into many fights back n’tha day and don’t think just because you got a fancy hand, I won’t shove this ‘pint sized’ foot so far up your ass you’d be feeling it for days.” </p><p>He gets laughed at.</p><p>Or, Bucky and Steve fall in love in the ice cream aisle</p>
            </blockquote>





	sweet like ice cream and tough like the terminator

 

 

Steve meets him at precisely 3:40am in the ice cream section at a 24 hour market. He knows the time because he’s standing in front of too many choices of frozen desserts when a voice comes from the aisle behind him. It’s a woman, who seems rather angry, yelling at someone over the phone it sounds like. 

 

“Dammit, no! It’s-” pause, “3:40 in the morning and I’m not in the mood to have your tongue shoved down my throat, fuck off.” There’s another pause as he hears footsteps walking away, and he glances over to his left to see her walking by, holding a wine bottle and she catches him staring before looking horrified at someone else being in the store. The look is quickly replaced by a scowl though as she keeps walking and snaps, 

 

“Because I was craving wine, sue me.” A snort from his right makes him flinch, and his head whips around to see a man looking past Steve, where the woman once was. He’s in sweats and a long sleeved shirt looking far too tight, his hair a greasy mess and pulled away from his face in a low bun. He looks around Steve’s age, but the dark circles under his eyes and scruff make him look older. 

 

He catches Steve staring and smiles in a way that looks overly forced but well practiced. “Who even wants to drink wine at this time?” It’s meant to be a joke but Steve tilts his head toward the freezer door still open, chilling the space around him, and then he remembers he’s only in sleeping shorts and a baggy t-shirt, and gives the guy a half ass shrug. 

 

“The same people who go get ice cream at 3 in the morning.” The man, who Steve is starting to realize is attractive in many unfair ways because how can someone look like shit yet equally appealing at the same time anyways, softly coughs and Steve did it again. Made things awkward and too serious when it was obviously meant to be taken as a  _ joke,  _ because surely this guy knows  _ why  _ he’s there and he doesn’t need someone like  _ Steve  _ pointing it out. 

 

He finally looks away and goes back to deciding which flavor he wants to eat in the darkness of his living room, maybe he’ll put on a record and pretend he’s some middle aged woman who’s husband just left and now she’s all alone with their memories and the bra she found tucked in their mattress. He nods, reaching to grab the  _ cookie dough and chocolate chunks! _ , when something bright reflects the light and he looks over, seeing the hot homeless looking man, with, oh, a metal hand. Cool. 

 

He’s caught staring, of course, because how does one even act subtle? The dude looks like a deer caught in headlights which what the fuck, because Steve is the one openly staring at the guys  _ metal hand  _ and he looks as if he’s about to explain himself which double what the fuck? 

 

“You look like the terminator.” Steve regrets a lot of things, despite what his friends think, and this is quickly rising to the number one spot. Right before when he first met Tony Stark and stupidly asked about technology and got a whole fucking  _ speech  _ about all sorts of shit that Steve had blocked out, instead thinking about the latest painting he was working on at the time. He opens his mouth, closes it, and tries again but a sound that sounds freakishly like a gargle escapes and he quickly shuts it. His face and ears and  _ every-fucking-where  _ feels suddenly hot and he knows he looks as if he’s about to burst but  _ jesus  _ someone please rob the store and conveniently, accidentally, shoot him to put him out this 10/10 embarrassment. 

 

The guy has been staring with a blank face that makes Steve feel horribly worse and  _ why can’t he form words,  _ but a smile slowly breaks out and it isn’t huge by any means but compared to fake one he had given Steve, this one is breathtakingly beautiful and  _ real.  _ Steve finds himself at a loss for a completely different reason. And then a sound is coming from the guys gorgeous mouth, and he  _ laughs,  _ chuckles really, but still holy shit someone help Steve from having a literal heart attack at the masterpiece in front of him. 

 

“Yeah, s’pose so. Never thought of it like that before, but now I can’t stop thinking about it so thanks.” He looks genuinely grateful and Steve is suddenly hit with the fact that he must be severely insecure about it, given that he looked sorry for Steve having seen it and all at once Steve is back and he gives a small smile, shrugging and switching hands to hold the ice cream that’s very nearly giving him frostbite. 

 

“All you need are the shady as hell sunglasses. Have to say, I’m kinda jealous your Halloween costume is already thought of, usually takes me all year  _ and  _ the night before.” The guy smirks, jesus that’s hot, looking at where Steve is still holding his cookie dough goodness, it’s melting and making his hand wet but he literally can’t find it in himself to care. 

 

“What’cha talking about? Clearly you should be ice cream.” Steve arches an eyebrow, missing the punchline completely and instead of seeming confused, he laughs and gives a weak, “yeah.”

 

Clearly, the guy knows he didn’t get it, because he rolls his eyes, and huffs a laugh, giving a once over at Steve, which makes him feel tiny and suddenly he’s insecure and way out of his depth. 

 

“Because you’re a literal pint size human.” Immediately, his awe for the dude fades and Steve lets the freezer door slam shut, putting a hand on his hip and scowls. 

 

“Fuck you. I’ll have you know I got into many fights back n’tha day and don’t think just because you got a fancy hand, I won’t shove this ‘pint sized’ foot so far up your ass you’d be feeling it for days.” 

 

He gets laughed at.

 

The laugh is extremely attractive and makes his insides shrivel and sing, but he scowls harder while turning his chin up and sniffs. He turns on his heel and marches away because the guy may be carved from stone and his mother is clearly Aphrodite, but sexy or not, Steve Rogers does  _ not  _ put up with anyone’s bullshit. 

 

There’s the sound of footsteps running behind him and he huffs, clutching his now liquid ice cream closer to his chest, trying to speed up while also not have an asthma attack. A hand grabs his bicep and he spins, finger flinging in the guy’s face, ready to thoroughly tear his ass apart, but falls short when the man is straight  _ grinning  _ at Steve. 

 

He shakes his head, loose strands of hair falling from the bun and Steve has a sudden urge to push it back behind his ear, and squeezes his arm slightly tighter. 

 

“I didn’t mean to upset you, it sounded better in my head, and funnier, but the point is I wasn’t mockin’, s’cute actually.” Oh, he’s blushing. Steve’s brain short circuits and he huffs softly, looking away, trying-and failing- to not grin back.

 

“M’not cute. Handsome? Maybe. But no cute, don’t you know you could really hurt a man’s feelings by calling em cute?” Really, he should be more mad at some stranger having the nerve to say something about his small stature, but instead of a racing heart from anger, it’s from being called  _ cute. _

 

The guy grins wider with crinkles appearing by his eyes, and Steve really wants to paint him, draw and sketch all of this stunning man, his hand finally slipping from holding Steve, but he takes a step closer. 

 

“Don’t know why you flipped so bad anyways, you’re the one that called me the terminator.” 

 

Right. Steve forgot he said that bullshit. He shoves the guy lightly, smiling down at the ground.

 

“Seemed to me I just inflated that already big noggin of yours. Don’t know how you walked through the doors with that thing.” He’s shoved in retaliation this time, the guy walking forward, only a foot so that Steve can catch on and fall in step next to him. They make snarky comments the whole way to the register, and even while the guy- _ Bucky-  _ he’d learned which earned a,  _ “what the hell kind of name is Bucky?” “Shut your mouth Rogers it’s original and makes for a good story.” “Story? Who’s poor soul did you tarnish by your boring ‘oh look it’s actually from my middle name’ shit?” “I’m beginning to think you want to fight me.” “Oh believe me, I’ve already thought of it several times just by your obnoxious breathing down my neck.”  _ Even when Bucky has already checked out with his ice cream,  _ “strawberry? Fuck off!”,  _ he stays while Steve pays and still, they never stop talking. 

 

Only when they’re outside, and it’s well past 4 that silence settles between them, and even then it’s not awkward. Steve should be a little scared by how well they get along, but when Bucky glances over at him with a kind of smile that suggest mischief, he finds he’s more excited. 

 

“What do you say we walk around town eating this, munchkin?” Bucky’s been calling him that since he learned Steve won’t actually do anything about it because damn everything he’s  _ smitten  _ for the guy and though it irks him, it’s more out of fond than real aggravation. 

 

“I’d say it oughta make us top notch people being very cre-fucking-ative.” Bucky laughs, for the millionth time that night and really, why has no one told Steve he’s this funny, and together they walk the streets of Brooklyn at 4 in the morning slurping down ice cream in their pajamas. It should be down right silly, but with the way they’re walking with no space between them, and how Bucky keeps looking over at Steve with this  _ look,  _ it’s silly but in the way that makes the heart feel lighter and younger and Steve is giddy on it. 

 

They only part when the sun’s rising and a few cars have passed, but even then they’ve already traded numbers and Steve is going over to Bucky’s that night so they can binge watch every movie on Netflix and order from every takeout place on the block. It’s a given that they both have insomnia, and it feels nice to now have someone willing to goof off with at god forsaken hours. 

 

***

 

It’s a year later, when Bucky is waiting on his,  _ their,  _ couch playing on his phone when the floor creaks and he looks up, laughter spilling out of him and he throws his head back, not being able to look and  _ not  _ laugh. He hears a huff and he clutches his stomach, laughing harder. 

 

“S’not that funny, Buck. Least I don’t look like a right douche with those sunglasses.” 

 

Bucky looks back at Steve to see him with arms crossed but he looks nothing but adorable in the  _ fucking ice cream costume.  _ Somehow, with Clint and Sam’s help, Steve had actually found an ice cream costume resembling a pint sized one, the body being the ice cream and the head having the lid as an oversized hat. Bucky stands up, puffing his chest out and smirking wolfish. 

 

“Think I make a pretty badass terminator.” Steve walks past him while rolling his eyes and goes for the apartment keys, but Bucky grabs his wrist that is thin but still lovely. He cups Steve jaw, smoothing his thumb over the cheekbone and down to his mouth, pushing in just slightly, feeling hot breath ghost over it. Steve stares up at him and grabs onto Bucky’s leather jacket, pulling him down.

 

“C’mere.” He has to bend his knees slightly but it just makes it easier to pick up Steve’s little body, and the slight ache in his lower back is worth it to feel thin thighs wrap around him, although it’s a little difficult from the puffiness of the costume but they make it work, just like everything else. It wasn’t an easy year, by no means, but they're one in the same. They understood each other on a level even their closest friends couldn’t grasp. When Bucky had his days where all he wanted was to be alone, Steve would let him sulk in the apartment and be back when it was way past night, barging in with junk food and a smile that could outshine the sun, demanding it was movie night. 

 

And whenever Steve was stressing over a painting he just  _ couldn’t  _ finish, Bucky was there to calm him down and open him up, filling him with peace and kissing away the worries. It scared him sometimes, just how much Steve has wormed his way into Bucky’s heart with such a grip that it left him breathless sometimes, but he welcomed the sensation. Anything that involved Steve and his spitfire attitude, Bucky loved and loved and loved. 

 

They were late. Of course they were, but when Natasha opened the door and stared at them with an eyebrow raised, taking in the fresh mark on Steve’s neck and Bucky’s disheveled hair, all she gave was an unimpressed look but her smile was all fond. 

 

“You boys are late. Any later and there’d be no more alcohol, thanks to Clint and that guy Thor. By the way, steer clear from Tony, he’s way past drunk and keeps trying to fight everyone, and by everyone I mean Bruce, of course. Guy’s too nice.” She closed the door and led them into the mess that was their friends, everyone drunk and looking ridiculous in their costumes. 

 

“Pint size!” 

 

“Cyborg!”

 

“It’s terminator, actually. He was a cyborg but his name was actually terminator. At least that’s what I remember.”

 

“Kiss my ass Banner!” 

 

Bucky felt Steve laugh and he glanced over, seeing his literal pint sized boyfriend grinning, and he pulled him that much more closer, placing a kiss on top his head and smiling against the soft hair. God, was he lucky.

 

“Christ James, haven’t you done enough kissing for a night?” 

 

“Natasha let me kiss you like that-ow! Right okay nevermind, still love you though.” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback? Sorry if it sucked I just have a sweet tooth for fluffy stucky!


End file.
